


This Christmas

by Signe_chan



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 15:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13102890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Signe_chan/pseuds/Signe_chan
Summary: “Kenny, come dance.”“Fuck off, Mashkov,” Kent growled, glaring down into his glass of vodka. Around them, the Ace’s Christmas party was in full swing. The DJ was playing, the dance floor was crowded with bodies. Nobody else was paying attention to their Captain, hiding in the corner like a fucking goblin.





	This Christmas

“Kenny, come dance.” 

“Fuck off, Mashkov,” Kent growled, glaring down into his glass of vodka. Around them, the Ace’s Christmas party was in full swing. The DJ was playing, the dance floor was crowded with bodies. Nobody else was paying attention to their Captain, hiding in the corner like a fucking goblin. 

“No, I’m not fuck of. Stop being such grump. You’re ruin party.” 

“I’m not ruining the party,” Kent grumped. “You don’t even need to pay attention to me. Fuck off and dance.” 

“Not want to dance with them. Want to dance with you.” 

Kent snorted because like that was going to happen. Just because Mashkov had been traded to the Aces over the summer didn’t mean Kent had to like him. Just because Mashkov was by all account a good guy didn’t mean Kent had to like him. Just because Mashkov had fitted seamlessly into the team and had saved Kent from a few bad hits already this season didn’t mean Kent had to like him. 

“Come on, Kenny,” Mashkov whined, swaying drunkenly into Kent’s space. “Come dance.” 

“Get lost, I’m drinking.” 

“Yes, sad drinking,” Mashkov said, folding himself into the seat next to Kent. Kent would have leant away but there was some drunken executive on the other side of him so he had no choice but to lean into Mashkov’s warmth. “You know, Kenny, we on same team.” 

“Yeah, I know that. I read the fucking trade news.” 

Mashkov snorted like Kent had said something funny, then he leant in, right in, right up against Kent’s ear. “No, Kenny, listen. I’m say we’re on same team.” Just for a second, Mashkov’s lips brushed his ear and Kent shivered. 

Fuck. This could not be was he thought it was. Mashkov was drunk. They were both drunk. Mashkov didn’t understand English and he’d fucked up. Or, even if he hadn’t, why the fuck would he tell Kent this. It wasn’t like Kent wanted to know or wanted anything to do with it. Fuck, in fact, this was just going to make it weird. And how did Mashkov even know what team he played for? 

A giant hand closed on Kent’s thigh. A little too high to be just friends. But they were drunk. Mashkov was handsy. 

They hated each other. 

“Kenny.” Mashkov’s voice was almost a whine now, slipped right into Kent’s ear. “I’m think we be good friends, you know. Come dance with me.” 

And, just to blow any lingering ambiguity right out of the game, Mashkov lent in and pressed a delicate, deliberate kiss right below Kent’s ear. 

Well fuck. 

No. 

No, Kent wasn’t even thinking about this. Wasn’t thinking about Mashkov’s big body pressing him up against something – a wall or a bed or whatever the hell else they could find. Kent wasn’t thinking about Mashkov looking at him with those hot, intense eyes. He wasn’t thinking about Mashkov kissing him all over, pushing into him, sucking his cock. 

Shit, he needed to get out of here. 

“I’m going,” Kent said, pushing himself up. He didn’t look back, even when Mashkov made a little confused noise. He just kept his head down and carried on right out of the building. 

**

By the next morning, Kent had it all worked out. 

Mashkov had been drunk. Mashkov was probably emotionally needy, because he’d been traded and all. Kent would be a fucking mess if the Aces ever traded him. It hadn’t been anything and the best thing for both of them, for their sanity, would be for them to never think about it again. 

So, of course, before he’d even finished his first cup of coffee there was a pounding at the door. 

Mashkov looked sleep rumpled and still half hung over. He was wearing a polo shirt with a hole in and track pants. He looked a mess and Kent was 100% not into him at all. Being into Mashkov was about the worst thing he could possibly do. He and Mashkov hated each other. 

“Hello, Kenny,” Mashkov said, and Kent’s stomach fucking turned over. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Am here say sorry, maybe. I’m think last night I upset you?” 

“Whatever,” Kent grumbled, looking down at his feet. “Just do us both a favour and forget it, okay. You hate me and I hate you and that’s all we need to know about each other.” 

“Kenny,” Mashkov said, and he sounded hurt. “I’m not hate you.” 

“Sure you do,” Kent said, risking a glance up. Mashkov looked genuinely upset that Kent thought they hated each other. “I mean, I don’t take it personally. But you hate me. You always used to smash me into the boards.” 

“Is hockey, Kenny.” 

“You called me a rat.” 

“You make my team loose, of course I’m call you rat.” 

“Mashkov...” 

“Kenny, we on same team now. For hockey, I’m mean. Is okay if maybe you’re not want other things, but got to play together now. You got to know I’m on your side. I’m not hate you.” 

Kent fucking hated how much he loved hearing those words. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t trust them. He knew hockey was fucking fickle. What happened when Mashkov was traded again? He’d be back out there calling Kent a little rat and causing trouble. 

But Mashkov wasn’t on another team and Mashkov calling him names had always hurt more than almost anyone else doing it and maybe Kent had been a little bit in lust with him since forever. 

Maybe, since Mashkov had been on the team and they’d been playing together, he’d even been a little bit in love with him. 

This was stupid. It was a stupid risk and Mashkov was going to trample all over his heart. But fuck it. 

He was good at stupid risks. That was what hockey was all about. 

Mashkov obviously hadn’t been expecting Kent to step into his space. Hadn’t been expecting the hands on his face, the kiss, but he got with the program pretty quickly, pushing Kent back into the doorframe and grabbing handfuls of his hips and his ass and ravishing Kent’s mouth. Kissing him like he’d been starving for it. Like he thought he was only going to get on shot at this. 

God, Kent open he took more than one shot at this. 

Then Mashkov was pulling back, far enough to look Kent in the eye. To remind Kent that they were still stood outside his house in the freezing morning light. 

“Kenny...” 

“We’re on the same team, okay? I get it,” Kent said, smiling. “You gonna come in, maybe we can practice some drills?” As he said it, he squeezed gently where his hand was cupping Mashkov, Alexei’s, butt. 

“Yes, Kenny. Is best idea,” Alexei said, crowding him in again. Kent let himself be crowded. Let himself be backed into the house and let the door shut behind them. 

They had some very productive drills to run.


End file.
